Insulted Masculinity
by Do a Barrel Roll
Summary: In the ruins of Burmecia, Zidane and Freya lay sight on Kuja and take bets on his gender. After all, when does a sane man wear a thong? Needless to say, this is crack.


**I know I wasn't the only one thinking this when this scene happened at the end of disc one...**

**Sorry, I never had Quina before disc two, so s/he isn't in this. Plus, his/her presence would kinda kill the camaraderie between Zidane and Freya. Expect total crack ahead, everyone!**

**Disclaimer: Let's see...you'd think that, if I owned Final Fantasy, I would've remade all the classics by now (I want to hear an orchestra version of Dark Messenger!). Nope, instead we have to deal with games that are five years in the making...**

* * *

The rain cascaded down, pummeling Freya's spiffy hat and Zidane's hair, but they paid it no heed as they spied on the scene occurring down below. Queen Brahne, in all her overweight glory (Zidane had to wonder how someone with seventeen chins and skin the color of a suffocating elephant had spawned someone as beautiful as Dagger, and, for that matter, how she had managed to bag her obviously hot and currently deceased husband all those years ago) and Beatrix were conversing below about the plight of Burmecia. Beside him, Freya had her furious, furry fists clenched.

On the scene walked a new, mysterious figure, swathed in white and somehow not shivering from the cold, despite how much skin they were showing. Zidane couldn't help but gawk at the sight for a few moments before Freya leaned in to ask, "Who is that man next to Beatrix?"

Hold it...hold it...hold it. Zidane shot Freya a totally incredulous look for a few seconds and then turned back to the "man."

"Freya, are you drunk again?! That's _obviously_ a woman!" he said, shaking his head in denial. "And if she wasn't..." He let the words _"then I just checked out another guy"_ remain totally unsaid, but Freya got the gist.

Freya facepalmed. "Zidane, why do you think that's a woman? He doesn't even have breasts!...And what do you mean by 'drunk again'?"

Zidane ignored the second question, though a faint grin appeared on his face for a brief moment as the memory crossed his mind. Then he got down to business. "For starters, she has to use more conditioner than I bet Dagger uses in a month back in Alexandria. Then there's the makeup, which, using my awesome detecting skills, I can tell is Maybelline mascara and some generic eyeshadow bought at the Wal-Mog in Treno." Freya's eyebrows shot skyward, wondering how Zidane knew so much about this, but finally she shook her head and reminded herself about Zidane's rather...lecherous nature. In short, he was a man-whore, in his own mind at least.

"Also," he continued on his rant, "she's wearing feathers in her hair, which I thought went out of fashion years, and HELLO?! SHE'S WEARING A THONG!"

Beneath them, Queen Brahne, Beatrix, and the figure of unknown gender glanced around the area, unsure of the source of the noise. Beatrix placed a wary hand on her blade. Back with our protagonists, Zidane and Freya made a rather awful bet.

"Five hundred gil says she's a woman," Zidane challenged.

Despite _everything _going on around them, Freya decided to play along with Zidane's attempt to lighten the mood...or maybe he was being absolutely serious. With him, she could never be sure. "Five _thousand _gil. You are on, monkey boy."

"Fine!" The two leapt down to the ground far below. Freya landed with all the grace of a dragon knight, whereas Zidane bumbled the landing like a baffled baboon. "You!" He pointed a finger at the mysterious woman (she wasn't the most well-endowed woman, but a woman she had to be). "Pants off, now!"

The person's jaw dropped. "Excuse me, you revolting little chimp?" Hmph. Even the voice gave nothing away.

"I need five thousand gil!" Zidane begged for her to understand. Beatrix and Brahne also were gaping, but they wisely backed away, deciding to stay out of this awkward affair. "Now, if you would be so kind as to remove the thong-"

The flare spell collided directly with Zidane's face. Howling in agony, Zidane soared through the air until he smashed right into a crumbling statue of some ancient Burmecian lord. "I'm a man, you imbecile!" the confirmed _he _roared in outrage.

Minutes after Zidane had face-planted into the ground, he spared the man a shameful glance and began to gag. "Eww..." He licked the ground to get the taste of bile out of his mouth. "I checked him out, the man, the cross dresser before me!" he rambled. "Think purer thoughts, Zidane! Think of Dagger, think of Ruby, think of Freya...no, go back thinking of Dagger!"

Beatrix, meanwhile, clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "Kuja, you really should invest some money in a nice pair of pants. And a decent, modest shirt, while you're at it."

Kuja sneered at the fearsome general. "Are you insulting my superior sense of style?"

"You're wearing a thong!"

"It's comfortable!" Kuja defended himself.

"It's emasculating, that's what!" she shot back.

"My body is a work of art!" Kuja said. "You're just jealous of my beauty!"

"At least I'm comfortable with my gender!"

"Shut up, you one-eyed bag of poppycock!" Kuja pettily insulted.

"...Poppycock?" Beatrix raised a mocking eyebrow at his choice of words. This man was doing a horrid job at earning her respect.

As the two argued, Freya walked over to Zidane, who was currently enjoying a cold meal of pure, organic, watery gravel. She was unsympathetic to his suffering. "You owe me five thousand gil, Zidane."

"I hate you."

* * *

**Good grief...I started with just the beginning of this in my head, and in the end it transformed into an utter crack fic. **

**On the other hand, Zidane should be happy! Kuja can be both his brother and his sister, rolled into one!**


End file.
